Unfinished and Coming Undone

a million pieces of my heart
in all the things I start, but never finish
and every thing that's left undone
is just a sign I'm on the run, lest I diminish

and if I stop to take a breath
and contemplate my hour of death, I'd have to wonder
what then would be my last request
to sit with winners I detest, or rather one more chance to be a blunder?

Like that worm
who never made the hook
I slept too late
and never read the book
the early bird
was out cold when you came
I knew the plays
but snoozed before the game.

I dabble in the partial arts
in tasting wines and shopping carts with shaky wheels
and all the prizes never won
for half baked pies, and smiling eyes and flaky deals.

time will tell if this gets done
though time is never on the run, nor one for waiting
no matter what you do or choose
or what you keep or what you lose, that sunset's fading~

Like that worm
who never made the hook
I slept too late
and never read the book
the early bird
was out cold when you came
I knew the plays
but snoozed before the game.